


note that down

by orangesofduscae



Series: jamesandkeith week 2018 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Confessions, Fluff and Humor, Love Notes, M/M, just boys bein dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 18:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15954749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangesofduscae/pseuds/orangesofduscae
Summary: Someone is sending Keith love notes that are just a little bit unconventional in their messages.





	note that down

**Author's Note:**

> written for [jamesandkeith](http://jamesandkeith.tumblr.com) week day 1: **confessions**

Keith frowns at the little offending piece of paper between his fingers. He turns the scrap over and back, but it remains unchanged—the words  _ur face is stupid and i want to kiss it_ haven’t gone away, unfortunately. 

He looks around the hall, but nothing seems suspicious or out of the ordinary. No one is hiding behind the corner with their phone out recording him, so it’s probably not a prank. Probably. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters, and he shoves the scrap of paper into his back pocket before closing his locker. He frowns at it, too. How did anyone even get in his locker? He’s the only one with the combination! 

The warning bell rings, pulling his attention, and Keith hitches his backpack up on his shoulder and heads to class. There’s another scrap of paper on his usual desk when he gets to it. 

“Seriously,” he says, deadpan. He drops his backpack onto the floor and regards the scrap with suspicion. 

“It was there when I walked in, man,” Lance offers from his seat. He turns around and folds his arms on Keith’s desk, resting his chin on them. “I absolutely read it. Your admirer has good opinions but bad taste in men.” 

“That’s an invasion of privacy,” Keith says, picking up the note. He opens it and reads it over. 

_mullets went out of style like 20 yrs ago and i think abt how soft it would be to run my fingers thru_

Reflexively, Keith brings a hand up and runs it through his hair. It  _is_ pretty soft, because he washes it every other day, and he’s not a total lost cause when it comes to personal hygiene. 

He might wear the same shirt three days in a row, but only because it’s his favorite shirt and he doesn’t always have the energy for laundry. It happens, okay? 

“You didn’t see who left it?” Keith asks, looking at Lance. He shoves the note into his pocket with the other one. “There was one in my locker, too.” 

Lance makes a face. “Ew. Who would leave  _you_ love notes?” 

Keith scowls as he takes his seat and crosses his arms defensively. “I’m very lovable, thank you very much.” 

The noise Lance makes is somewhere between  _Sure, Jan_ and  _Your mom is obligated to love you because she’s your mom_ but then the bell rings and Mr. Holt is calling attention to the class, so Keith doesn’t get to put his fist through his face, and that’s the real tragedy. 

He gets three more notes before lunch, each one with varying degrees of insults followed by his admirer’s desire to do something intimate or couple-y involving whatever it is they’re insulting. It’s offensive and juvenile and Keith finds it strangely charming. 

_ur attitude sucks and i want u to show me up at the arcade so i can proudly show u off to strangers_

_have u considered a wardrobe change from the crop top and gogo boots? we can hit up the mall and i can hold ur hand while we shop_

_ur so intelligent and it infuriates me can we pls study together?_  

It’s obvious his admirer knows him and also his schedule, which narrows down who it might be tremendously. Keith has a couple guesses in mind by the time he gets to the cafeteria with Pidge, both of them dropping their trays on their usual table to sit and eat.

It’s chicken nugget day, and they’ve been looking forward to it. 

“Do you know who it is yet?” Pidge stabs a nugget with her fork and shoves it into the gravy pooling around her mashed potatoes. 

Keith chews thoughtfully on a nugget of his own. “I have a guess.” 

“Oh, yeah? Who?” 

Keith opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by another tray being dropped on the table close enough to almost upend his own, and he looks up at James taking a seat next to him. He raises an eyebrow and shares a look with Pidge. 

“This seat taken?” James asks, and then starts eating his own nuggets with the kind of confidence that says he knows the seat wasn’t taken and neither Keith nor Pidge can tell him to move. 

“Make yourself at home,” Pidge says, and she stabs another nugget. “We were just talking about Keith’s secret admirer.” 

James makes a show of trying to look surprised, but falls a little short. It’s kind of cute, and it makes Keith’s mouth twitch at the corners as he tries to hide a grin. “Really. You don’t say.” 

“Oh, yeah,” she says, very seriously. “He’s been getting little love notes all day. Very cheesy and romantic.” 

“Love notes, huh.” 

“Yeah.” Keith digs into his pocket and lets them scatter on the table between them all. “Very grade school. Or so I’ve been told—I was home-schooled the first eleven years of my life, so I wouldn’t know.” 

The way James’s cheeks go red and he ducks his head is really all the proof Keith needs to confirm his guess. With a smirk, he reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out another scrap of paper, torn from his notebook last period and hastily scribbled on as legibly as he could make it: 

_if u wanted to be my boyfriend all u had to do was ask_

James reads it and Keith watches as his face turns an even brighter shade of red. He laughs as James drops his head onto the table, something about the situation just so dang funny he can’t help himself. 

“I hate you,” James mutters, and Keith just laughs harder. He takes pity on him and reaches out to take James’s hand, threading their fingers together. James eyes him from the crook of his elbow, and Keith just smiles. 

“So, what was that about wanting to kiss my stupid face?” he asks, tone innocent, and cracks up again when James glares at him. 

“Shut up.” 

“Make me,” Keith challenges, leaning against him, and he can’t get rid of his grin even when James makes good on it. 

He ignores Pidge’s  _Really? Right in front of my nuggets?_ and flips her the finger as James’s fingers thread into his hair, feeling for himself just how soft it is. 

**Author's Note:**

> twitter @firaga_master


End file.
